


With All Due Respect

by Janina, mynameisnoneya



Series: At Her Majesty's Service [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Jaime Lannister Lives, Jaime Lannister Redemption, Jon Snow is a Mess, Love Triangles, Mild Language, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, Soul-Searching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27509542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnoneya/pseuds/mynameisnoneya
Summary: Too much has transpired since the other woman’s death at Jon’s hands for them to rekindle what they once shared.  Too much anger and bitterness and mistrust has passed – too much judgment and exasperation.  This is what she tells herself over and over again, even more so now that the man who she’s come to trust and who Jon despises has become a such an integral part of her life.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Sansa Stark, past Jon Snow/Sansa Stark - Relationship
Series: At Her Majesty's Service [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002744
Comments: 20
Kudos: 93





	With All Due Respect

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the third in the series, _At Her Majesty's Service_ , a collaborative effort by mynameisnoneya and Janina. It can be read on its own, but we recommend reading it after the other two previous works to help it all make sense!
> 
> Please note that we made sure to tag any and all characters that appear in this work, whether they have a speaking role or not.
> 
> General disclaimer: GoT characters and quotes belong to GRMM - we own nor claim nothing!
> 
> If you enjoyed this work, please let us know by leaving comments and kudos!

“With all due respect, Your Grace,” he chuckles while her hands race to undo the laces of his breeches and shove them down his hips, “I was under the impression that you asked me to escort you to the godswood this evening so that you might pray, not fuck.”

“Then you were sorely mistaken, my lord.”

Protocol may dictate that a queen isn’t supposed to kneel, especially in the midst of a holy place as she takes a man who isn’t her lord husband into her mouth, yet the tiny gasp he emits when she lifts her skirts and settles on the cold ground before him makes it all seem very, very appropriate indeed.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Watch me.”

For once, Jaime has nothing witty to say, and she loves every minute of it.

There’s something raw and wild dancing in his emerald eyes when she wraps a hand around his cock and strokes him in an unhurried, rhythmic fashion. Before long, her tongue is swiping over the head and tracing the rim, then sliding along the shaft, base to tip. She’s rewarded by a groan rumbling deep within his chest, and when he leans back against one of the trees for support, she knows she has him exactly where she wants him. It doesn’t take much effort on her part before he’s needy and whiny and muttering all manner of filthy things he intends to do to her, and based on past experience, she’s certain he will fulfill each vow in due time.

She’s proud of how fast Jaime is coming undone under her ministrations. Her skill at performing such licentious acts has improved dramatically these last few months he’s been visiting her chambers and schooling her on the fine art of lovemaking. He may have been reluctant at first to accept her request that he teach her, but such is not the case anymore. He has become just as eager as she is to explore what she likes and doesn’t, and somewhere along the way, she’s discovered that she rather enjoys finding out what pleases him just as much.

His good hand is unraveling the intricate plaiting her handmaidens performed this morning, but she doesn’t care. She also doesn’t care that her jaw and her knees are starting to ache. She is determined to see the act she has instigated to its completion. There’s no way she’ll give up now, and judging how his legs are trembling, she won’t be aching much longer.

“Get up,” he commands hoarsely, pulling her off his cock and tugging at her so she’ll rise. “I want to finish in that pretty little cunt of yours.”

The vulgarity of his demand sends a surge of heat straight to her womanhood, and she’s barely on her feet before she’s twirled around like a ragdoll and pinned against the same tree. She holds fast on his shoulders while his good hand tears at the fabric of her skirts, his golden one pressing against the inside of her thigh.

“Spread your legs, my lady,” he says, shoving a knee between them to part them even wider, “and hang on.” Effortlessly he lifts her into the air, and it’s now her turn to gasp. The bark scrapes her back through her furs, but the pain doesn’t outweigh the pleasure engulfing her the moment he enters her.

“You dare tell your queen what to do?” she asks, her voice a mere whisper now that the fullness of him inside her is overtaking her senses.

He grins at her, teeth bared, as he thrusts. “Only when she’s wrapped around my cock, do I.”

She smiles as wide as the snow-covered hills surrounding Winterfell, and the heady rush of being taken in the barely concealed alcove of the godswood is making her dizzy and euphoric all at once. She’s not sure if it’s love that exists between her and Jaime, but there’s certainly a connection between them, one of honesty and trust that resides there. She’ll gladly take that any day over the empty promises and suspicions she endured for so long. He makes her feel safe, and safe is a commodity in short supply these days.

Once upon a time, Sansa had imagined that she and Jon were destined to be together. During those nights when they’d shared ale and long conversations about Father, she dreamed of a life built in the North with her cousin by her side. Reality had dealt her a different fairy tale, however. It became quite clear when he’d arrived at Winterfell with the Dragon Queen that what she’d hoped for simply wasn’t meant to be.

Too much has transpired since the other woman’s death at Jon’s hands for them to rekindle what they once shared. Too much anger and bitterness and mistrust has passed – too much judgment and exasperation. This is what she tells herself over and over again, even more so now that the man who she’s come to trust and who Jon despises has become a such an integral part of her life.

”Jaime,” she moans, her nails digging into his shoulders.

“Come for me, Your Grace,” he answers hoarsely. “Let go.”

Closing her eyes as the waves of want crash into her – pushing her under the deeper Jaime goes – her bravado falters when her tussle with Jon outside her chambers earlier in the day flits across her consciousness. He’d been so angry and self-righteous, a storm brewing inside those gray eyes of his like always. Yet today, she realized the storm wasn’t raging because he enjoyed chastising her. No, Jon was in agony. It was torturing him to see her with Jaime, just like it had tortured her to see him with that wretched woman he’d once called his queen.

She’s panting harder now as the irony of the situation washes over her. Like the lords of the North, Jon will never truly accept _her_ decision to allow the Kingslayer to remain at Winterfell and to climb into _her_ bed. Jon may never understand her choice, but the easy rapport she and Jaime have developed is genuine. The fact that Jaime spends more nights in her chambers than his own is nobody’s business but hers. She is a queen. Jon made his choice, and she has made hers.

Her release comes hard and fast, and she cries out into the godswood. Unable to stand when his own follows, Jaime crumbles, taking Sansa along with him. They’re piled on top of one another in a jumbled heap, panting and freezing and burning up all at the same time. A lone tear streaks her flushed cheek, and her fingers wrap around Jaime’s good hand when he takes hers in his. In the distance a raven caws, and she stares into the bleak gray skies.


End file.
